Aware of Being Aware
by Snazzy Suit
Summary: When playing online, I've often wondered what the Spartans would think if they saw us running around screaming obscenities and tea-bagging each other. This is the story of one soldier who witnesses just that, and the results aren't pretty.


This is an offering to the plot bunnies, whom torment me relentlessly until they get their way! D:

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Halo. (Shocking right?)

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><p><em><strong>Slayer…<strong>_

That voice….I hear it more often than I'd like to admit. What it says varies slightly from mission to mission, but it always sounds the same; dark, ominous, and…._amused_. I don't know if I'm losing it or some twisted omnipotent being has nothing better to do than narrate my every action. I've tried asking my teammates if they too hear this voice (in a way that didn't make me sound like a total nut job), but they never respond.

_It's as if they can't even hear me._

No, that's not right. There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. My brothers and sisters in arms are focused on other things like, you know, not _dying_. The last thing they need to worry about is theories of all knowing voices I hear in my head. Speaking of which, the voice is probably nothing more than my subconscious expressing guilt for all the lives I've taken.

_Yeah….that makes sense._

I'm shaken free of my thoughts when I notice my comrades fanning out, each taking a different path to reach our goal: to eliminate the opposing forces. In this case, there is but one opposition. We dub them "Red" for simplicity. It's an odd title I won't deny that, but we are not here to create catchy nicknames for our foes. We're here to take them out and move on to the next objective. Simple as that.

I select my own route, carefully monitoring my radar for any sign of the enemy. The only blip is that of my teammate who rushes past me, clearly eager to take the lead. We soon find ourselves in what appears to be a research room with a staircase leading up to another floor. Under said staircase I notice a shotgun propped up against the wall. Curious, I approach the weapon and inspect it.

'_That's strange...Who would leave a fully loaded shotgun out in the open?'_

Other than the previously mentioned oddity, nothing appeared to be wrong with the weapon. I decide not to further question my good fortune and take the powerful fire arm, hurrying after my comrade whom was already ascending the stairs.

Then, without warning, my vision flickers and for a brief moment I see my teammate's armor turn blue. Above his head hovers a light blue arrow along with a combination of numbers and letters. The unusual sight disappears just seconds later, leaving me blinking in confusion.

'_What the hell was that?'_

I stand there staring after my comrade for a moment more, waiting to see if the bizarre vision would reoccur. It doesn't, so I shake my head in dismissal and continue on my way.

'_I don't know what just happened, but I don't have time to think on it now. I need to stay focused.'_

I finish my internal lecture just in time to witness my teammate come under attack. I had been so distracted by my thoughts that I failed to notice the red blip on my radar indicating a nearby enemy. The opponent weakened my comrade's shield with a grenade and proceeded to open fire. If I didn't intervene quickly the soldier would be dead within seconds.

I rush forward and slam into the foe, bringing down his shield just as he had done to my friend. Before he can properly react, I swiftly pull out my shotgun and finish him off with one pull of the trigger.

_**First Strike!**_

_'There's that damn voice again! What the hell does 'First Strike' mean anyway?' _

My teammate slowly gets to his feet and gives me a grateful nod before turning his attention to the bridge ahead. Stationed on the opposite end of the bridge are two more enemy soldiers, one of which throws grenades while the other opens fire. We lunge to the right, taking shelter behind a wall as several blasts shower us with debris. I drop into a crouch and monitor our opponents' location on my radar, waiting for the right moment to strike.

My comrade takes a chance and leaps from our cover, taking out one of the soldiers with his DMR. I soon follow my partner's example when our second foe finally comes within range. He is halfway across the bridge when I sprint from my hiding place, hoping to quickly close the gap and finish him off with my shotgun. I barely get a few feet away from my starting point before I'm met with a very unpleasant surprise. Up until this point, our opponent had been concealing a T50 DER/H, aka the (appropriately dubbed) Concussion Rifle. It seemed that he too had been waiting for the best time to bring out his most powerful weapon.

The blast of several plasma bolts violently knocks me back, effectively bringing down my shield and leaving me quite vulnerable. My vision and hearing become greatly impaired with each hit, making it nearly impossible for me to defend myself. As disorientated as I was, there was no way I could hope to maintain any accuracy when firing a weapon.

Just when I thought death would take me, the firing suddenly stops. At least, I couldn't feel the blasts anymore. I stay there, crouched, for a moment longer, waiting for the ringing in my ears and the blur in my vision to lessen. When my senses slowly begin to return, I look up to see that the enemy had not, in fact, ceased fire. The damage I had taken made it difficult to process what was happening, so I didn't think much more of the situation before pulling a plasma grenade from my supplies and hurling it at my opponent. I was hoping for the grenade to land close enough to do significant damage, I didn't think I was going to stick my foe, especially when I could barely make out where he was. Sure enough, I did the impossible and actually stuck the guy. Luck seemed to be on my side.

It turns out luck wasn't the only reason I survived. After the enemy soldier was blown to bits, I finally realized why he had stopped shooting at me in the first place. My comrade had tried to charge the opponent, so he had to redirect his attention to defend himself. The actions of my teammate had not only kept me alive, but provided me the opportunity to finish off the enemy.

This, however, had not come without a price.

I slowly approach the body of my fallen friend and kneel down beside him. I just sit there, stunned and unsure of what to do next. I had saved him and he returned the favor at the cost of his own life. How the fuck was that fair? At that moment, a word briefly flashed in my mind.

_**Avenger**_

What did it matter? Sure I avenged his death, but I was the reason he was dead in the first place. Was killing that other guy supposed to take the sting away? 'Cause it fucking didn't.

I sit there for a moment more, muttering a send-off of sorts before I rise to my feet. It was time for me to continue with my mission. I couldn't afford to dwell on this any longer than I already had.

"_Get a hold of yourself. Nothing else can be done and you know that. He gone and he's not coming ba-"_

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. If it had been the enemy I would have been dead as I didn't react until the stranger was only a few feet away. I look up in time to see one of my teammates, who doesn't even acknowledge my presence, walk past me.

"_Something…feels off about him."_

I study the soldier for a few seconds before it clicks. An icy chill grips my spine at the sudden realization. I look back at the body and then return my gaze to the soldier as he begins to cross the bridge.

"_No, it can't possibly be…"_

I do another double take, analyzing both forms in hopes of dismissing my suspicion. Unfortunately, my observations only confirm my fear.

"_It's the same guy." _

My vision flickers and the armor of the other soldier turns blue. A combination of letters and numbers, along with a blue arrow, appear over his head. The same combination I saw before. I turn my attention back to the body next to me. Though there are no letters or arrows, the armor on the body is also blue.

"_This again? What is going on?"_

I slowly reach towards the body, determined to test if the sight before me was real. My hand is mere inches away when the unexpected occurs; the body vanishes.

"_Holy shit!"_

I leap back in shock, unable to believe what I had just seen.

"_W-what the hell? The body just disappeared!"_

I stare at the spot where the corpse had been just moments ago. The only evidence that it had been there were splatters of blood.

"_First I hear voices, now this? Intense hallucinations? I mean, that's the only reasonable explanation. How can someone die, come back to life, and then just casually walk past their own body? That doesn't even make sense!"_

I shake my head and turn back to the bridge the person in question had just crossed. The only way to clear this up was to find my comrade and question him myself.

"_That's going to go well. Hey buddy, did you die just now?"_

I laugh nervously and walk out onto the bridge. I may seem like I'm more or less handling the situation, but in reality I was terrified. My mind was in a questionable state and I was trying to keep things light in an attempt to cope.

It wasn't working.

The best way to describe my mental stability at this point would have to be cracked glass. I say this because when I barely get halfway across the bridge something happens that deals the final blow to my weakened mind, completely shattering it along with all hopes of retaining composure.

The teammate I had gone after suddenly rounds a corner and sprints toward me like his life depends on it. Turns out, his life really did depend on it as he was being pursued by….

_Dear God…_

The sight before me was unbelievable. My comrade was being chased by an enemy soldier wielding an energy sword, but that wasn't what froze me in my tracks.

"_Is his head on fire?"_

Everything appeared to be moving in slow motion. I could only stand there and watch as my partner leapt off of the bridge in a desperate attempt to escape from his pursuer. This, however, was in vain as the foe shockingly vaulted himself over the ledge after his target. I rush to the railing of the bridge and peer over the edge, fearing for the worst. Unfortunately, the worst is exactly what I see.

The opponent is standing over my deceased comrade, who, despite his best efforts, was unable to escape a terrible fate. To my surprise, he looks up and meets my gaze, as if daring me to take revenge. The idea never entered my mind. The only thought rattling around in my brain was the fact his FUCKING HEAD WAS ON _FIRE_.

Just because I didn't accept the unspoken challenge, didn't mean no one else would. This was made apparent when the foe came under fire of one of my other teammates on a lower floor. The enemy soldier's sword may have been effective before, but against a long range attack it was completely useless. Mere seconds later, the sword wielding opponent met his end to the deadly accuracy of the challenger.

As the lifeless body crumpled to the floor, another voice, different than the one I normally hear, rings out in my head.

"WHOOOOO! TAKE THAT NOOB!"

I jerk back and cover my ears in attempt to block out the shrill obnoxious sound. My action did nothing to help as I quickly realize the voice was actually in my head. I stumble forward and peer over the railing in time to see my fallen comrade's avenger get taken out by an enemy sniper. The shock of his sudden death is quickly replaced by confusion when, what appears to be, a speaker icon materializes over his corpse.

"AAARGGGH! THAT'S FUCKING BULLSHIT!"

I cover my ears in vain once more and back away from the railing.

"_That voice sounds like it belongs to a prepubescent boy! (A foul mouthed one at that.) But that doesn't make any sense! What would a child be doing in a war zone?"_

I feel something brush past me and turn to see another one of my teammates heading in the direction I just came from. Without thinking, I run after my fellow sister in arms and cut her off before she can get too far away.

"_I don't know what's going on, but I'm clearly losing my mind and am in desperate need of help. It only makes sense that I alert one of my comrades so they can call for an evac."_

Or put me out of my misery…

Before I can even utter a single word, the female soldier pushes past me and attempts to continue on her way. I stare at her dumbfounded for a moment before cutting her off once more. I didn't know why she was behaving in such a way but I needed her help and I wasn't going to give up.

I never thought things could get any weirder, but I was proven wrong as a new voice echoed in my mind.

"What the hell is your problem? Get out of my way!"

I take a step back in surprise and do nothing to stop the annoyed woman as she forces her way around me. At least, I _thought_ she was a woman.

"_Her voice...she sounded like a freaking dude!"_

When I say she sounded like a guy, I don't mean she had a voice that was deeper than the average female. I mean it sounded like a gruff thirty-year old man was talking instead of a woman!

I couldn't take it anymore. I had seen and heard more crazy shit in the past ten minutes than I had in my entire life. There weren't any more doubts in my mind, what was left of it anyways. I wasn't just crazy, I was a fucking lunatic.

This acceptance didn't do anything to relieve me; in fact it made everything worse. It was like a flood gate was opened and my insanity was finally free to do what it wished. New and familiar voices alike entered my mind at once, screeching at me like nails on chalkboard.

"WHAT THE HELL?...I want that gun!...You suck dude…I HATE MY TEAM! How do I throw a grenade?...noob…..Why is a kid playing this game?... SUCK IT!...I SO KILLED HIM FIRST!...I hate Sword Base….Hello? ASSHOLE! YOU STOLE MY KILL!...ugh….*unintelligible singing*….They're camping upstairs guys….FUCK! I JUST GOT ASSASSINATED!"

It was all gibberish to me. I could only pick out a few words and phrases from the wave of voices all crying out at the same time. It was too much for me to take.

I turn and run across the bridge as fast as I can manage. I had no destination in mind, only an intense desire to escape from this insane reality. Once across the bridge I take a sharp right into a break room. I barely get halfway across the room before I trip over my own feet and land hard on the floor.

So much for my great getaway.

I lay there for a moment, not sure if I should even bother getting up. Instead I compromise by crawling over to a planter and prop myself against it. I pull my knees to my chest and cover my ears once more as another barrage of voices pound in my head. I don't know why I even bother, it's not like it made any difference the last few times I tried. At this point I appeared full on psycho, body rocking and head shaking included.

I'm only left alone in my nervous breakdown for a short time before I detect slow movement in my peripheral. I tilt my head up slightly and watch a crouched figure make its way out of a vent before coming to a stop in front of a large window. Strapped to his back is the mother of all long range weaponry: a Special Applications Rifle, Caliber 14.5 mm, SRS99, more commonly known as the Sniper Rifle. He slowly rises to his feet and turns in my direction, freezing at the sight of another soldier, an enemy soldier to be more precise. It took me a moment to register that he was wearing red armor like the men who had killed my comrades.

Just my luck.

His surprise doesn't slow him for long, for in a split second I have a pistol aimed at my head. (I failed to notice that too apparently.) I sit there and just stare back at him. I make no move to defend myself. What was the point? I'd be dead long before I got my own weapon out. Hell, it was for the best anyways. I was completely bat shit crazy after all. The voices only continue to get worse and the hallucinations haven't ceased.

It would be a mercy killing…

I lower my head to my knees, accepting my fate. Silence fills the room. I expect the next (and last) thing I hear to be the discharge of my enemy's weapon. Instead, my ears pick up the barely audible sound of footsteps softened by the carpet. I look up and am shocked to see the enemy soldier just four feet in front of me. I jolt out of the fetal position and attempt to back away. It was one thing to take a bullet to the brain and go out quick and painless, but I wasn't about to have this fucker torture me for his own amusement.

In response to my reaction, the soldier quickly holsters his pistol and raises his now empty hands as if to say _"Whoa! It's okay! I'm not going to hurt you!"_

Wait…what?

That doesn't make any sense. Why would my opponent _not_ try to kill me?

Hands still raised, the man takes a cautious step forward. Then another. I curiously watch as he slowly crouches down when he is but an arm's length in front of me. Unsure of what to do, I fix the soldier with my gaze and briefly examine him, searching for signs of anything unusual.

Well, aside from him invading my personal space.

I take note of his major armor features. He bears an Hp/Parafoil chest plate, his left arm sports a Sniper shoulder variant, and his right arm boasts an EVA shoulder variant. Before I could study his equipment any further my eyes are quickly drawn to the golden shimmer given off by the visor of his Scout HU/RS helmet. It is then I notice my own reflection, and narrow my eyes at the sight. My Operator helmet was not the oddity I observed, but the realization that my armor was blue.

"_Great, I'm a part of my own hallucinations."_

As if on cue, the voices shriek at me once more. I cover my ears which, surprisingly enough, does nothing to alleviate the pain in my head. It's all nonsense to me. It feels like I'm eaves dropping on a group of people all yelling in unison and I'm only able to pick out a few words.

"_What the hell does tea-bagging mean?"_

I shake my head furiously, internally begging for the voices to cease their onslaught on my sanity. A hand grabs my forearm, effectively redirecting my attention to the man before me. He tilts his head slightly before making gestures with his free hand. First he points to me, then to his ear, followed by his mouth, and finally his head. When I don't react, he goes through the gestures again. I stare at him for a moment, unsure of what he was trying to say. He is about to start the process again when it clicks.

"_Do you hear voices in your head?"_

If I wasn't still clutching my head, I would have smacked myself for not making the connection sooner. In all fairness, why didn't he just ask me in the first place instead of playing a bizarre game of charades? Unless...he couldn't?

"_No…that can't be right."_

I ask him how he knew about the voices, but he doesn't respond. He doesn't even acknowledge that I spoke.

"_So, he can't talk or hear? Fantastic."_

That must be it, because he looks like he's still waiting for an answer. I nod gently to test my suspicion. He slowly releases my arm and draws back, a perfectly reasonable reaction to someone admitting they hear voices in their head. I expect him to turn and run or put a bullet in my brain right then and there. Instead, he makes another gesture. First he points to me, then my mouth. This message isn't very clear, at _all_. I do my best to decode it, using his previous gestures as references.

"_Well, the first one seems obvious, but what about the second gesture? Last time it meant voice, is that its meaning this time as well? Voice…words…speak…talk…Talk? Maybe…he's asking if I want to talk to him?"_

I lower my arms, realizing that my hands had been firmly glued to the sides of my helmet during the entire "conversation". My conclusion didn't make much sense, but I didn't really have any other ideas. I nod cautiously, wondering just what I had agreed to. Almost immediately he reaches toward the side of my helmet, grabs something and, before I even realize what was happening, I hear a click. A split second later, a question flashes in my mind.

_**Private Chat?**_

"…_uh…yes?"_

Another click sounds in my head and I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of relief. I silently wonder what caused this sensation when it hits me: _silence. _The voices, I couldn't hear them anymore. I had never been so thankful for my helmet, for without it the man before me would have witnessed the goofiest of grins.

"_The voices are gone!"_

I shit you not, I was about to leap up and make the saddest attempt to dance when a new voice entered my mind.

"Feels a lot better doesn't it?"

So much for the silence.

I internally sigh and allow my shoulders to droop. I knew it had been too good to be true.

"Yeah, the silence _was_ nice for the three seconds I got it." I mutter to no one in particular.

"Ouch. Is that how you normally thank people?"

I tense up in surprise. I didn't think anyone could hear me much less respond. I cover my visor with a hand in exasperation.

"Great, now I can communicate with the voices in my head. Not exactly what I wanted." I groan.

"You do realize I can hear everything you're saying right? You act like I'm not even in the room."

"_Wait a minute…" _

I remove the hand from my face and look up at the man before me. I couldn't believe I didn't make the connection before.

"You're…talking to me."

"Any other time, I would have some sarcastic reply ready to dish out, but I can see you've had a hellish day so I'll restrain myself. To answer your question, yes, I am the one conversing with you."

I let this soak in for a moment before responding.

"But, just a moment ago we couldn't verbally communicate at all! How is it-"

"That we can talk now?" He finishes. "I set up a secure channel between the two of us. We can speak without worry of anyone eavesdropping. Best of all, we can't hear anyone else talking either. Those 'voices' as you call them will no longer be an issue."

Well, that's one question answered. Sadly, as cliché as it is, his answer only raises more questions.

"That's another thing, how did you know about the voices in the first place? Do you regularly run into people in the process of a mental breakdown?"

A warm laugh greets my ears before I receive a response.

"You'd be surprised. You're not the first 'nut' I've stumbled upon. We've all heard the 'voices' and I won't deny it's not a pleasant experience. However, you don't need to worry about your mental state. You're sanity is intact, that I can promise you."

Again, I'm thankful for my helmet and its amazing ability to hide my awkward facial expressions.

"_Just who is this guy?" _

This question was just one of many that I wanted, no, _needed_ answered. I didn't know where to start, so I just blurted out all of my inquiries one after the other without so much as pausing to take a breath.

"There are other people like me? Did you just admit to hearing the voices too? Why did my dead teammate come back to life? Why is our armor red and blue? How am I not crazy? Why didn't you try to kill me? One of my female comrades sounded like guy, is that going to happen to me? Did you see people running around with their heads on fire? I sure as hell did so I'm pretty sure that means I'm fucking crazy!"

I could have continued rambling for quite some time. Fortunately, I didn't get much further as he cut me off with a raise of his hand.

"Whoa! Slow down! I can't make out a word you're saying when you talk that fast. Also, you should try and breathe before you pass out."

I sigh and take several breaths, embarrassed that I let myself get carried away with my unintelligible interrogation. The soldier continues when he seems satisfied that I had calmed down.

"I'll answer any and all of your questions I assure you but we've got to take it slow. If I tell you everything right here and now you would just freak out even more. Believe me, it's happened before."

The soldier kneels and extends a hand.

"Here, I can take you to a quiet place where we can talk this out. I know you've been through a lot and this is all happening so fast, but I can help you. As cliché as this sounds, you're just going to have to trust me."

"_Well, he's got the cliché part right."_ I thought. _"Even so, he knew what was troubling me and went so far as to fix the problem. (Part of it anyways) If he can tell me what's going on, I don't really have any other choice but to trust him. At least until I get the information I need…"_

I was still a little hesitant, but I was willing to do just about anything to find out why all of this was happening to me. Without a second thought, I reach out and take his hand.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Meh, glad I finally got _that _out of the way. Not my best work by any means. I'll probably go through it and edit it some more but I wanted to post _something_.

Anywho, you think I'm kidding when I say the plot bunnies torture me. It's almost impossible for me to continue working on something until I get some other ideas out of my head. Now that I got at least one chapter of this taken care of, I can resume my other work.

By the way, is it obvious that I don't know shit about Halo? I had to rely on Halo wiki for a lot of stuff, and even then I'm pretty sure I got a few details wrong. I play online, I don't really pay attention to the story (or much anything else) of Halo. (Which is very odd for me, I love plot!) Oh well, I hope you somewhat enjoyed this abomination anyways!

Reviews are always welcome, whether you want to tell me what you like/dislike about the story or critique me as a writer.


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